Ice slicks the puddles
Bare earth lies golden and black
Snow lurks in shadow.
Snowclad, the Rockies
Look painted on the backdrop
A scenery flat.
Canada geese strut
Past car-corpses half-buried
In dead grass and snow.
It’s very soothing
Catching the landscape in words
Late in Nebraska.
Frosted reeds curve down
Over the tawny grasses
Like spun filigree.
Distance stretches flat
This is the land of wide sky
Clouds streak winter sun.
They say there’s nothing
But I can’t take my eyes off
Flat land, immense sky.
Clouds skimming eastwards
You can see weather coming
It’s not metaphor!
Flanking the highway
Jetsam: Gas, food, motels, signs
Glimpsed: East, West, Wrong Way.
We’re thirteen hours late
I got up at 4am…
Trains make me happy.
Black cows graze gold fields
In calm sun, but a cloud looms:
Snow comes and slaughter.
In summer it’s corn
As far as the eye can see
Now empty, waiting.
Thin sifting of snow
Drifting, highlighting outlines
And the sky turned grey.
I was so happy
Looking out of the window
Why did I read news?
America is
So beautiful, you guys but —
Wait, is this safe now?
As the world goes on
The shadows stretching to night
The sun turns away.
Ah, dusk. The last rays
Refracted through atmosphere
Winter gold turned red.
26th January 2017
